More Dangerous Than a Shelby
by larskygiraffe4
Summary: June is the new girl in town, fleeing into Birmingham in the late evening with no money. And she butts heads with the wrong group of men. She's not afraid of them, but everyone else in Birmingham seems to cower at their feet. Should she befriend these men? Or take them on? More importantly, will they endanger her as she seeks refuge here?
1. Chapter 1

"How much ya' lookin' ta sell tha' piece for, miss?"

The man speaking to her was leaning casually against the entryway to a small shop labeled 'James' Consignment.' He flashed her a smile, showing his yellowing teeth which didn't look at all out of place against his dirty skin and ripped overcoat. In his hands, he twirled a small knife through his fingers, almost too fast for her eyes to follow. But that wasn't what interested June. It was the sign.

"This your shop?" she asked, feigning mild interest.

"Ay," he said, taking a modest bow, "James be mah' name."

She glanced down at the rather large pocket watch hanging from her gloved hand. "You must be referring to this piece here?" She held it up, brushing a stray lock of hair back from her face as she did so.

"Yes ma…" he cut off, his eyes widening as he looked closer at the hand holding the watch. "Alright, there, miss?" he asked.

Closing her hand around the watch's chain to obscure his view, June replied, "Quite. And as for your price … I think ten pounds ought to do it."

James the consigner threw his head back and laughed, causing several passersby to stare. June's jaw clenched, her patience wearing thin. This wasn't the sort of attention she had wanted to draw when she had chosen to hide here.

"Ten _pounds_?" He shook his head, wiping his face off as though he had just been crying for laughing so hard. "I'd wager five. No more." He folded his arms.

She brought both hands together pleadingly, her eyebrows raising together, "Please… it's all I have. I just… I need…." She lowered her head, her eyes closing in defeat as her shoulders trembled.

For a moment, no words came from this James the consigner. The only sounds in the streets were the drunken shouts of men, the clopping of a horse's hooves, and the yelling of a pissed off wife. Then, a pair of brown, worn shoes appeared in her vision.

She looked up, blinking with wide eyes as she took in the upset face of James. "There, love," he said as he put an awkward hand around her clasped ones. "What's gone and happened to you to get you in this state? And _here_? Don't ya got any family?"

June just shook her head, keeping her despairing gaze on James' the entire time.

He shook his head, "Fuck's sake, beggin' your pardon, ma'am. I suppose I can swing eight. That get ya' a start?"

Her expression turned from one of defeat to one of sudden hope, her mouth falling open and eyes widening. "You would? Oh, bless you!" She threw her arms around his filthy shoulders, releasing before he could hug her back and dirty her dress too much.

"I'll be right back with that," he said as he scurried into his shop to retrieve her coin. She turned to look out at the street, quiet for a late evening on a Friday. Where could everyone be?

"Here ye' are," James said, holding out eight pounds. "As promised."

"God bless!" June repeated, holding up the pocket watch one last time, as though she were having a hard time letting it go. Then, she gingerly placed it in his hand as he dumped the money into hers.

"May you find some fortune here in our small town of Birmingham!" James called as June turned to walk back along the street, a grin lining her face.

She ventured down the roads in the gathering dusk, taking care to keep her deep red skirt free of the soiled ground. Puddles of dirty water and other … unsavory items littered the side streets. The main roads were a little easier going but still filthy.

The further she walked, the more she heard the cackles and howling of drunken men. Bright light filtered down the road, outlining the building on the corner labeled 'The Garrison.' The light was so intense; the building almost looked as though it were on fire compared to the rest of the dark street. Two young-looking boys marched through the doors, for a moment revealing the boisterous scene within before shutting once more, hiding its secrets from her.

"Are you looking for somewhere to stay?" a female voice sounded from behind her, making June whip around.

"Ye… yes," she recovered. "I am new in town and have money, but there appears to be no inn that I could find."

The woman smiled, enhancing her already beautiful face outlined by her dark curls. From the flickering light in the pub, June could make out freckles spritzed across the woman's nose. Her clothes looked nice, too nice to be a common middle-class lady.

"There isn't one. Come on; you can stay with me until you find work. Don't want to be hanging around here when the boys let out." The woman took off walking back away from the pub. June scampered behind to follow, glancing back behind her.

"I take it that's why the streets are so quiet? They're all bundled in there for the night?" she asked as her guide's heels clicked on the stone street.

"Indeed, lucky for you. And me, I suppose. Fucking men and their whiskey."

June blanched, a little taken aback by this woman's language. Of course, she herself was no stranger to such strong words, but most women tended to have more delicate dispositions.

"Sorry," the woman said, reading June's reaction. "I don't usually have _polite_ company. I'm Ada, by the way."

"Pleasure, June."

"Lovely name. Where are you from, then?" They took a right at the end of the road. The alleyway was dark. Dark enough to make most women scared and uncomfortable. But Ada didn't seem the least bit phased. In fact, she looked as relaxed as June felt. Uncommon.

"I suppose you could say London," June replied, skipping around a sunken stone in the road where water had accumulated.

"Oh, don't even get me started on London," Ada shook her head and looked back forward again.

"What's wrong with London?" June asked, not caring for this stranger's opinion, but needing to keep the conversation moving along.

"Nothin', I suppose. Just my brothers have this big business idea about London, and it's stupid."

Chuckling, June replied, "I don't believe men can see common sense when it's right in front of them."

"Isn't that the truest thing today."

Silence fell, June not knowing how else to take the conversation from here as they took another turn. The sun had lowered below the horizon completely, darkness having fallen along with it. It had to be around ten in the evening if she had to guess.

"So, is your husband in the pub? Was that why you were hanging around there?" June asked.

"Not quite. It's just me and Carl, my son, now. His father passed a while ago."

Ada stopped in front of a gate, opening it and holding it for June to follow. She did so, pulling the metal gate shut behind her. "It would scare me," June lied, "living here all by myself. I mean without your family or a man. Doesn't it bother you?"

She chuckled, smirking a little as she unlocked the door. "If I have ever been afraid in my life, it was long before I lived here by myself. Come in and get warm. It's chilly out."

June blinked the sleep out of her eyes, shielding herself from the sun's rays as they slowly crept in above the window sill. The previous night, she hadn't shut the curtains. Note for future: make sure to draw the drapes.

The bed squeaked as she turned over and pushed herself to an upright position. It couldn't have been later than seven. Late for her though. Pushing back the navy embroidered quilt, she slid out of bed, her nightgown silently sliding down her legs to cover all but her ankles and feet.

She first walked over to the window and pulled the curtains tight to obscure the prying eyes of anyone passing by. Then, June proceeded to change into the dress she had been wearing the previous night. With only two outfits, she had to use them sparingly. Ada had promised to try and dig up some clothes that might fit her today. But for now, she had to reuse her dress.

Dropping her nightgown, she pulled on her chemise and stockings before throwing her mid-calf length dress on over it. No time today to look too nice or fancy. She needed to gather information. She needed to _learn_.

Brushing her hair out, she pulled it into a strict, auburn braid which hung over her right shoulder and tied it off with a ribbon to match her dress. Peering into the mirror of her armoire, she decided it was good enough. Appearances could be deceiving, after all.

She made her way into the hall and shut her guest room door behind her before walking down the stairs, her shoes clacking on the wood and echoing in the foyer. Despite her loud approach, she didn't hear Ada call a greeting or acknowledge her. June arrived at the bottom, checking the parlor and great room. No Ada. Not in the kitchen either.

"Ada?" she called, hesitation in her voice as the small word echoed in the large house.

A stray piece of paper on the table caught her attention. It read: June, went out for some errands. Make yourself at home. Key in the flower pot.

Errands? A single mother who could afford this kind of a house surely had people she paid to run her 'errands.'

But now wasn't the time to wonder. It was June's opportunity to explore her new temporary home. Learn its ins and outs. Make some familiar faces.

The bright sun outside almost blinded her, her eyes fluttering as they adjusted. When she could see once more, she lifted the flower pot on the porch and retrieved the key. Locking the door with a solid _click_ , she replaced it in its hiding place before walking down the steps and heading back the way she had come the previous evening.

Other houses identical to Ada's lined the streets. All tall and imposing. But the street was quiet, no doubt the owners slumbering in the early hours of the weekend. Despite the sun, the morning air was cool, making June pull her shawl closer around her shoulders as she walked through a spot of light fog which had settled on the streets.

Rather than turn back toward the pub from the previous night, she took a left, down a different side street. She took several more turns, not needing to look at the road names. She would remember her route down to the number of footsteps when she returned. As she continued, she noted the change of scenery. The houses became less tall. They were close together, many with holes in the roofs or human waste dumped in front of their doors. Streets were littered with human beings. Sleeping on the corners or scrounging for crumbs of food before the rest of the impoverished awoke. And others were engaging in less savory public activities. Apparently, there weren't any whore houses here for the cheap whores to frequent. They just did their business right there on the streets. And no one seemed to think anything of it.

"'Ow mooch'?"

A pressure on her arm made June jerk back as she turned, yanking herself from the grip of a greasy man. His beard was matted with dirt and food, and his smile only had a handful of teeth in it despite his age of mid-thirties.

"Bugger off," she simply snapped, not caring to be polite.

"'Ave 'lot ta' offa,'" he persisted, taking a step forward once more.

"And I don't. Touch me again, and I won't say it nicely."

The man let out a chuckle, filling June's nose with the pungent aroma of alcohol and tobacco. But then, he reached out his hand toward her….

June reacted fast, grabbing his hand and twisting it behind him as she tripped him over her foot. The wretch hit the ground, not even letting out a grunt despite the loud _thud_. His drunkenness spared him from the pain. But as she stepped onto his back and yanked at his arm, he squirmed, getting the message.

"'Right already! Yield, please!" he called.

June released, stepping off his back and letting him raise his body from the piss-stained street. Not looking behind her, she continued on, her confidence not leaving her step in the least as she walked away from the impoverished part of Birmingham.

Main Street was a little less sleepy than Ada's road by the time June made her way around to it. Several women were dragging their children up and down the road with baskets and bags of groceries. Men stood in small groups chatting animatedly while the occasional car passed. A policeman strode casually up and down the streets, earning dirty side glances from the citizens, which he ignored with friendly nods of good morning.

All normal Saturday morning behaviors…. Except there was a disturbance in the dynamics of the Birmingham citizens. It started toward the far end of the street and rippled up toward June. Men stopped talking and turned their heads toward the ground, one or two giving a nod without looking up. The women ushered their children to the sides of the streets and scurried on a little bit faster. The children, though, looked with wide eyes behind them, intrigued by the cause of this disturbance.

Four men prowled down the middle of the street, their faces all partially concealed by the matching hats adorning their heads. They were all similar in dress. And they didn't dress cheaply. Even the youngest, maybe a teenager, was dressed in clothes above the pay grade of most senior employees at any business. Most of them had hands hidden in their pockets. As she watched, though, the second from the right brought a lit cigarette up to his mouth and took a long drag on it. The man to his left threw his head back and tipped a flask back into his throat before replacing it into his pocket.

These were just more men of Birmingham walking down the street. But the reactions of the other citizens said they were anything but ordinary men. And June's instincts were telling her not to turn her back. So, as they continued towards her, she kept on walking off to the right so as to not be in their way, but close enough to get a good look. And look she did. Her eyes remained fearlessly on the four men as they drew closer.

When she came within twenty feet of them, the one who was smoking looked her way. It was a look which almost froze her in her steps. His ice-blue eyes stared into her. No emotion could be found in his face. No hint of a smile crossed his sharply defined cheekbones. But there was something she got from him as his gaze held hers: curiosity.

It wasn't but a few more seconds before the man on his left noted her as well. He did some sort of a double take, his mustache almost twitching. And then, he reacted as she could have predicted. He stopped, taking a step forward as she continued to approach. The other three stopped, in turn, as he called in a thick cockney accent, "Hey! I don't like your look! You show some respect!"

June continued to approach, only coming to a halt when she stood a foot in front of the tall man. She stood only several centimeters shorter than him, which seemed to throw him off. The other three men watched on curiously as she said, "This is a public street, is it not?"

"Fuckin' 'public street!' You hear this, boys?" he turned to look at his posse for backup. The two younger ones both grinned, the teenager even cackling a little as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. The other young one, older but with a bit of a baby face and heavy eyelids, stepped forward. "Tha's right, Arthur. The prime minister _owns_ this street." The man with the blue eyes just looked at the exchange coolly, his eyes calculating as they flickered back and forth between the man called Arthur and June.

Arthur threw his hands up in the air in mock surprise, "Well then, I guess you were right," he said as he turned back to June. "So, I guess I'm going ta' have to confiscate this road by order of the Peaky _FOOKIN'_ Blinders!"

June stayed silent a moment, unsure as to what this man had just said. In her peripherals, she witnessed the policeman take a wary step forward, his face unsure. The man with the blue eyes, though, raised his hand slightly. Just a small movement without even looking. And the policeman stepped back, crossing his hands in front of him as he stood straight and watched.

The question June had then was: could she afford to piss off these men? They seemed to have some semblance of power here. Playing it safe was perhaps best.

"You can take your 'peaky _fucking_ blinders' and shove them straight up your arsehole," June said, not even flinching as Arthur's face grew red. "I will walk wherever I so please and no fucking town drunkard is going to stop me." She then moved to step around him as though to go on her way.

But Arthur stepped to cut her off and lifted his hand as if to strike her. Exactly the reaction she had sought. As he began to swing his hand down toward her cheek, something lightning fast brought his arm to a standstill.

It was the man with the blue eyes. He had grabbed Arthur's arm, and now Arthur's red and huffing face turned toward the other man. June half expected him to strike him. But then the man who had intervened on her behalf spoke, "Save it for the real fight, brother."

Arthur just nodded, lowering his arm slowly as his brother released his grip on him. "Sorry, Tommy. Been a long fuckin' day. Long fuckin' day."

"You boys go get a round of whiskey. I'll be right behind you," the man named Tommy said, his voice soft and level. The other three nodded and continued on down the street. The eyes of the street's patrons followed their backs.

"Bit early for whiskey, especially for a drunk, isn't it?" June asked.

Tommy turned to face her. He lifted his chin and tilted his head as he took another drag on his cigarette. His eyes never strayed from hers.

"After going through hell, it's never too early for a drink," he simply replied.

"He's the blowhard, but you're the one they're all afraid of, aren't you?" June said bluntly, making him tilt his head a little more. Then he surprised her. He smiled a little bit. A dry, humorless smile as he threw his head back a little. It didn't help to make him more approachable.

"So, who are you, then? Come in here. To my town. Asking questions and causing trouble with my brothers. It's a bad way to try and start a new life."

"What makes you think I'm not just passing through?" she said, taking a step back from this man. She realized at once why she didn't want to be close to him: she was afraid of him. He seemed casual, friendly, and calm enough. But maybe that's what scared her even more. He didn't have to act or talk tough. His actions spoke for themselves. The most dangerous kind of a criminal. Like her.

"Birmingham is a bit of a shithole," he said as he puffed on his cigarette before throwing it down on the street. "Why the fuck would anyone just come here to have afternoon tea?"

He was blunt and honest. And he was insightful. June felt the need to get rid of him before he could gauge anything useful about her. "Good day, sir," she said as she turned and continued to walk down the street. Her only destination was out of the line of that icy gaze.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

When June awoke the next morning, those icy eyes still burned in her mind. But that hadn't been what had awoken her. It had been voices. Not Ada's. Ada had been gone when June had returned the previous night. But she had left another note saying she wouldn't be returning until early morning. The voices coming up from the downstairs though weren't at all a woman's. They were men's voices.

She jumped from bed, taking care to step softly. She pulled a robe on over her nightgown and grabbed a throwing knife from her suitcase. Then, she opened her door a crack. No one upstairs. The voices were low, and they were coming from the first floor.

Taking a deep breath, June tried to control the adrenaline as it rushed into her, making her heart beat faster and her head throb as her senses turned up to maximum. She couldn't act in violence unless she had to. She had to try and escape and alert neighbors of a break-in. They could call the police. These rich people would have phones.

"Who the fuck are you?" A rough voice said. But June didn't halt to see what he looked like. She instead ran back into her room, slammed the door and locked it.

Feet pounded up the stairs, and she heard the men talking in low voices in the hall.

A fist thudded against her door five times. "Open it up!"

June didn't move. Instead, she jumped behind her bed and crouched, her arm poised to throw the knife as soon as they opened the door.

For a moment, silence filled the house. She thought maybe they had given up and were fleeing. But then, the door crashed in, the wood splintering and cracking from its hinges explosively. June popped up, recoiled her arm, and flung the knife at the head of the intruder. But the man ducked his head behind the door in time. Her only reachable weapon thudded into the door, burying its blade halfway into the wood.

Cussing followed from out in the hallway. "Was that a fuckin' knife?" one of the voices said.

The door opened again, this time a little more hesitantly. June stood straight, trying to look scared as the men entered. But her composure was lost as she recognized the criminals from the previous evening. Arthur, Tommy, and the unintroduced other two. A grin spread across Arthur's face. The youngest stood there and looked at Tommy, clearly unsure as to what he should do here. But the one with the baby's face chewed on a toothpick, his eyes glancing over June.

"What are _you_ doin' in here?" Arthur demanded.

"I would ask you the same," June replied, crossing her arms. "But as you are all criminals, I can guess you're breaking in."

"WHAT IN THE HELL DID YOU IDIOTS DO?" An unknown female's voice squawked from the hall. All four men turned. The two youngest looked down and away. Arthur looked as though he had just accidentally kicked a puppy.

"Sorry, Pol…."

"No! Not you. I want to hear it from Tommy. And he'd better have a very good explanation for me to tell Ada."

Tommy's eyes flickered down to the floor for a moment before returning to whoever was in the hallway. "What are you doing here, Polly?"

"I'm asking the questions here, Thomas," Polly said in a strict tone.

"We couldn't find Ada. And then we saw a stranger run from us up here, which struck us as strange."

"So, you had to go and blow the bloody door off its hinges, hm?" the woman said.

"She locked the damned door. What else were we supposed to do?"

"How about mind your own goddamned business and not break into your sister's house!? Any young woman who just woke up to find you brutish idiots rummaging around in the house would be scared out of her wits. Let me in then."

June stood stunned as Tommy stepped aside to let this woman enter. She was older than the boys. Wrinkles lined her features, but her smile was kind as she pushed her curly hair from her face. "Forgive them, dear. They have yet to develop manners. I'm Polly. Ada sent me to take care of Carl this morning."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm June. And there's no need to apologize." Her gaze returned to the four cowed men. Well, three. Tommy looked more annoyed than anything. "We've already been _introduced_."

"Oh, God," Polly turned back to the men. "Did you threaten her too?"

"Just tell me who the fuck this is Pol. And where Ada is," Tommy said, shifting his weight to one leg in impatience.

"This is Ada's guest. Now, did you threaten her?"

Tommy shook his head, looking away. But apparently, he realized he wouldn't get an answer unless he gave one. He looked back at Polly. "Not at all."

The woman raised an eyebrow, her dark eyes penetrating Tommy's for a moment. "I can tell when you're lying, Tommy." She turned toward the youngest man. "What happened, Michael?"

All eyes turned to Michael. The boys all seemed to be holding their breath, silently willing him to keep his mouth shut. But then, he looked back up and shook his head as his shoulders relaxed in surrender. "Arthur just hassled her a bit, mum. That's it."

Polly breathed in deeply, then clapped her hands together as she turned toward Arthur. "Right, then. Arthur, apologize to this young lady."

"Polly… I…"

She interrupted him, "If the next words out of your mouth aren't directed at June, then I will shoot out your tongue. Now…."

He turned to look at June. "I'm sorry for my actions yesterday. They were uncalled for and ungentlemanly."

She nodded stiffly, "Thank you, sir."

"Good," Polly said. "Now, you all introduce yourselves like the gentlemen you are."

Arthur looked down at the ground, swallowing his pride. Then, he took several steps forward and held out his hand toward her. "I'm Arthur Shelby, ma'am. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

June walked out from behind the cover of her bed, her steps full of fake caution. She put her hand in his, and he bowed slightly as she nodded. The two of them stepped back almost immediately. Arthur retreated to the safety of his master's side.

Then, Michael, with an encouraging glare from his mother, stepped forward. "Ma'am, I'm Michael Grey. Half-brother to the Shelbys. Happy to make your acquaintance." He took her hand, and they repeated the same gesture she and Arthur had. But it held less hostility.

Next, the second youngest swaggered forward, his head tilting as he took the toothpick out of his mouth. For a moment, he just stared at her before offering an exaggerated bow, "John Shelby at your service, madam."

"Fuck off," she said before she could bite the words back. But they didn't seem to discourage him. On the contrary, he just grinned even wider as he stepped back and leaned against the wall.

And then it was Tommy's turn. His calculating eyes flitted to Polly before resting on June once more. Stopping in front of her, he took a small bow, holding her gaze. "My apologies, Ms. June, for the misunderstanding. I am Thomas Shelby, and I would like to officially welcome you to Birmingham, courtesy of the Peaky Blinders and Shelby Company Limited. It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance." He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing the top of it before releasing.

Unsure how to react, June just smiled viciously. Was he being sincere? Or was it a trap. "The pleasure is all mine, Mister Shelby."

"My friends call me Tommy," he corrected her. "And a friend of Ada's is a friend of ours. Now, Polly, please tell me the whereabouts of my sister."

"She's gone," Polly replied, her grin looking very much like a cat.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"She's fuckin' gone to the commies, hasn't she?" Arthur said, putting two and two together.

"It's not my place to say," Polly replied before walking toward the doors. "Now, since we are all gentlemen here, leave the poor girl alone so she can put some clothes on." The men filed out with nods and murmurs of 'ma'am.' Polly then turned back as she closed the door, "We'll be downstairs with a pot of tea, dear. Feel free to join us."

The wooden door closed with a soft _click_ as the latch slid into place. June was alone, but her mind was still trying to catch up with what had just happened. Head spinning, she pulled the bed covers up over the mattress before moving to her wardrobe. To her delight and surprise, there were a few things hanging up or folded inside. Some skirts, blouses, shoes, and pants. A hat and a belt also awaited her. All at the generosity of Ada, who appeared to be in league with these Shelbys. At least it explained how she came to be so wealthy and confident walking on her own.

Selecting the unlikely trousers, June buttoned up a crisp navy blouse over the top and tucked it in. Afterward, she moved to the powder room and looked in the mirror, observing the deep circles on her pale face. Her dark eyes stared back, judging her from the other side of the mirror.

"Well, let's get this over with," she mumbled as she set about brushing her auburn locks, yanking at the tangles. Once it was nice and easy to deal with, she began French braiding both sides around her head, like a crown before bringing both together in the back and twisting them into a bun, which she fastened with some pins. While the long hair wasn't fashionable, she found it much more suitable and easy to pull up and out of the way when needed.

Next, she powdered her face, applying her eye makeup and painting her lips a dark red color. Once it was all complete, she looked quite different from most women walking the streets. But that was how she wanted to present herself to the Shelby family; different.

Her soft shoes barely made a sound as she walked down the curving staircase. As she entered the sitting room, all eyes turned to her. Arthur nodded awkwardly while the two young ones just stared at her. Tommy though, looked her over fast, evaluating her. Understanding her statement. Polly was the only one who expressed outright surprise, her eyebrows raising and a hesitant smile spreading before she forced it into a friendly, welcoming one.

"Come, have a seat with us," she patted the sofa cushion next to her. "Do you take sugar in your tea?"

"Just black for me, ma'am," June replied as she sunk into the indicated seat. It was soft. Of course, these rich people would have pretty furniture as well as comfortable.

Polly picked up a rather plain looking teacup and poured some of the steaming liquid from the china pot. "And call me Polly, please."

June nodded, accepting her tea as she noted only the youngest, Michael, seemed to be partaking in the traditional drink.

She placed the tea down on the provided saucer to let it cool, her attention focused solely on the steam rising from the dark depths of her cup. It swirled through the air and vanished as soon as it got too far, becoming one with the air around it.

 _Come on, girl_ , she thought to herself. _You can do this._

Looking up, June spoke with a polite, soft voice as she met the eyes of all those gathered, "So, you all know Ada then?"

"Know her?" John smirked. "She's our bloody sister. Basically raised her we did."

"With Aunt Pol's help, 'course," Arthur put in, nodding at Polly, who smiled slightly before turning back to June.

"Yes, we're all family here. Now Ada did tell me she took in a stray woman, but she didn't say what you were doing roaming around Birmingham in the middle of the night."

Had June been any less practiced at awkward conversations, her cheeks might have burnt red. As it were, she had been expecting just such a question. And she had an answer ready which might win over the hearts of the Shelbys.

"My husband … he um…. Well, he got involved with some gangs in London. I, I don't know what exactly happened. But he crossed the wrong people, and they invaded our house one night. Killed my husband and tried to kill me before burning down the house."

June took a deep breath, clasping her hands in her lap as though this were hard for her. "I just ran. All I managed to grab was a pocket watch of my father's. And I ended up here."

Out of her peripherals, she looked at their reactions. John was just relaxing on the couch, his eyes squinting at her. Arthur was shaking his head and ran a hand through his hair while Michael looked on with sympathetic eyes. Tommy though… Tommy looked calculating as he sat forward with his arms on his knees.

"Well, you're safe now, dear," Polly said, putting a reassuring hand over June's, who nodded at her graciously.

"Yeah," John cackled, "No London gang gonna' come here and mess with the fucking Peaky Blinders. None have the balls." The rest of the men all cackled and smirked at his statement, even Tommy's lips curled a bit upwards. But Polly just gave them all a warning look.

"So, which gang was it that gave your husband trouble?" Tommy spoke at last, his words soft and even, but instantly bringing the rest of the room back to quiet.

"Tommy," Polly warned. "Now's not the time to bother the girl."

"It's alright," June said as she took a sip of her bitter tea, the liquid lighting her insides on fire as it made its way down her throat. She put it back down before saying, "I don't fuckin' know who it was. My husband's affairs were his own. Fucking bastard deserved what he got if you ask me."

Tommy just nodded, "No children?"

That was the little plot hole in her story. What wife didn't have children for her husband, after all?

"No, our relationship was more … distant than that," June replied, hoping her vague answer would let them get their own ideas. It seemed to satisfy them.

But Polly wasn't happy with the conversation as she sat her teacup down loudly on her saucer. "That's enough of this, Thomas," she scolded.

He raised his hands in defeat, sitting back and crossing his arms this time. "Only trying to get the story straight. After all, it is our sister's house she's staying in. What if these men come looking for her?"

"You know as well as I do that no one is coming into Birmingham without us knowing. Least of all a bunch of gangsters."

"I can leave if I'm too much trouble," June said, putting her hands on her knees as if to stand and gather her belongings.

"Sit," Tommy said. Just one word. She looked at him, caught in those icy eyes. They left no room for argument. Just one word spoken quietly had so much authority behind it. She sat.

"Being with Ada is the safest place for you. No one will touch you here, not with our protection," Tommy went on with no room for any doubt. "But if you're goin' to be here for a while, you're going to need work. And Shelby Company Limited always has openings."

"We do?" Arthur added with a raised eyebrow, to which Tommy ignored.

"You'll be Ada's personal assistant. Do whatever she tells you, and you'll be paid well."

"How well?" June asked, as though it were some kind of a negotiation.

"Too well for you to have to worry about an exact number," John said from the corner, which made everyone in the room laugh. All except June, who wondered what she had just committed herself to.


	3. Chapter 3

" _Open the fuck up, Pol!"_ Tommy's muffled voice called from the other side of the door.

Ada turned to Polly, her eyes wide as she whispered, "You can't let him know I'm here. Please!"

For a moment, Polly didn't respond, but then she nodded, walking forward. She had a distinct soft spot for her niece.

"Stay there and keep your trap shut," Polly muttered in the front room. Then, louder, "What do you want, Thomas? I have a male guest over here and we're quite busy."

Ada grinned ear to ear, and June decided she liked Polly more already. But Tommy was sharper than that. " _Now, c'mon, Pol. We just want to see Ada and figure out what happened."_

 _"Yeah,"_ Arthur growled, his voice a little more muffled as he yelled through the door. _"And get some fookin' answers as to why the coppers are raiding the house."_

Both women met one another's eyes. Now, Polly's heels clacked on the hard floors as she marched back into the kitchen. "You didn't tell me it was cops," she said, folding her arms as she looked between Ada and June.

"We handled it," June piped in, trying to ease Polly, but only seeming to frustrate her.

"Aye, that ya fuckin' did," Tommy said from over Polly's shoulder, making the older woman's hand go to her chest. She rolled her eyes as she wheeled around to face her nephew.

"This isn't your house, Tommy. You can't just go wherever you want to!"

Ada stepped forward, shielding June from view. But June could hear the scowl in her voice as she said, "Get the bloody hell out! The woman isn't decent."

Tommy took a drag on his cigarette, the smoke wafting through the air before he deliberately freed it from his mouth, holding it with his pointer and thumb. "No," he said as he punctuated with the cigarette. "I'm not going anywhere until you girls tell _me_ what the fuck's gone on." He pointed at each of them in turn with his cigarette.

"This is my house!" Polly yelled, shoving Tommy in the chest. "Don't you dare come in here and make such demands."

June looked away from the cigarette and her eyes moved up to meet Tommy Shelby's. They were cold. But there was something else there. Like he was hiding something. He was looking right back at her, making her hair stand on end.


	4. Chapter 4

"That will be all. Now get home, Lizzie. It's late."

Lizzie nodded, "You know I don't mind. Goodnight, Tommy." She closed his office door behind her. Then, she grabbed her belongings from her desk and walked out the front door, which closed with a soft clap.

Tommy's shoulders relaxed as he sat back in his chair. The office was quiet. Everyone had left for the night. He shook his head, leaning forward once more over the reports on his desk. He had to focus, or he was never going to leave the bloody office.

The front door slammed open, the bell ringing as Isaiah burst in. He made a beeline for Tommy's office, not stopping to knock, but not coming over the threshold as he threw open the door. "Tommy, you got to come quick. The coppers all over the next block down asking for who seen Ada."

Taking a deep breath in, Tommy stood and crossed his arms in front of him, "What the _fook_ did she get up to now?"

"I don't know. They tried to talk to me, but I took off too fast and came straight here. People were talking about a gun goin' off. It's bad, Tom." The kid's eyebrows were raised, and he was breathing hard, clearly understating how fast he had run to get there.

"Alright, Isaiah. Thank you. Lock up the shop after me and then go home. Which block was it on?"

"Two down and One over. I think people are gathered on fifth."

Without another word, Tommy grabbed his jacket off his chair and took off, pulling open the door to the business and almost colliding with Arthur and John. Arthur put his hands out and stopped himself against the doorway, his head draped down as he panted for breath.

"Cops _fookin'_ raiding the house, Tom," Arthur said as he pushed his hair away from his sweat-dripping forehead.

John, who looked a little less put out from the sprint, stepped in, "We told em' to fuck off. They said they're on strict orders and are looking for a fugitive."

"Ye, I know," Tommy said impatiently as he stepped out onto the street. "That fugitive is our damned sister. Let's go."

The three Shelbys marched down the street at a fast walking pace. As people saw them coming, they turned their eyes away, confirming what Tommy already thought was true: everyone had heard about what had taken place in his city. Everyone except him. And the cops would have to answer for their disrespect and intrusion.

They passed down two blocks and swung a left. Now the shouts of cops met Tommy's ears, as well as the excited hustle of people as they tried to get a look at what was happening.

"I think we're at the right place," Arthur muttered.

"What we gonna do, Tommy?" John reached for his gun casually as he spat the toothpick from his mouth.

"You two don't do a damned thing," he turned to each of them in point. "Leave the talking to me." Neither looked happy, and neither of them nodded. But Tommy knew neither of them would disobey.

As the three of them rounded the corner, their hands in their pockets and heads bent low, people jumped out of the way. Their pace didn't change as they took in the shit show in front of them. Two cabs were parked on the street, and six officers stood around them. One was leaned up against the car holding his throat. Other police officers were pushing the crowd back and asking questions.

One such officer spotted the three of them as they approached. He was rather muscular and not as pudgy as most of the coppers. Perhaps for that reason, he marched up to the three of them, planted himself in their way and crossed his arms. "I'm sorry, gentlemen. This street is blocked off. You'll have to go around."

The three men came to a halt and looked up. Arthur cocked his head, "I think you've made a mistake," he said, pronouncing each word slowly. " _Officer_."

The man, unphased, simply stood his ground. Tommy looked up at him, giving the man his most calculated glare. The officer held for ten seconds before Tommy grew impatient.

"Okay," he said as he sidestepped the officer and strode forward like he owned the street. Of course, he did.

"HEY!" the officer called from behind him. Tommy heard the cocking of a gun. "Don't you move."

Tommy stopped in his step, taking a deep breath in to try and keep himself from shooting this man. He turned around, spread his arms wide, and forced an unfriendly smile on his face. "We're all friends here, officer." He pointed at the gun. "Now put that thing away before someone gets hurt."

"It's alright, Ernie," a familiar voice called. The officer referred to as 'Ernie' didn't lower his gun, but his mouth dropped open in shock.

"You said…."

The fatter and balder cop stepped into view. "And now, I'm saying it's alright. I want to talk to them. Now put that fuckin' thing away and apologize to Mister Shelby."

The man dropped his gun to his side, gritted his teeth and said, "Apologies, Mister Shelby."

Tommy smirked, not bothering with a reply as he turned to the new cop. "Get your fuckin' men out of my house, Moss."

Inspector Moss' face turned uncomfortable. His eyes dropped as he replied, "I'm sorry, Mister Shelby. This is above me. They're not my men, and it's not my op."

This time, Tommy crossed his arms, his brow furrowing in a way that made the inspector flinch. "Okay, then tell me what the hell you're after Ada for."

"Well…" Moss looked very much like he didn't want to go on. The ground was much more interesting at the moment. "Your sister and her companion assaulted some cops."

" _Ada_?" John took several steps forward. "Ada, _our sister_ took out _your men_?"

"Well that is pretty embarrassing," Tommy said as he lit up a cigarette and put it to his mouth. He took a long drag on it as John and Arthur smirked.

"They resisted arrest, sir. And, well, the men are hurt in a bad way."

Now, Tommy needed straight answers. He turned his back on Moss and marched up to the gathering of police officers. One was leaned up against a car, sitting on the ground while a doctor bent over him.

"My sister did that?" he demanded, making the other cops take a step back as they noticed his presence.

"Bugger off!" the cop snapped from the ground, his forehead sweating and hands clenched.

The doctor looked up, a little calmer than the officers and not unsettled by the presence of a Shelby. "This man was impaled in the calf."

"Impaled?" Tommy asked, his eyebrows raising. His sister carried a gun, but a knife seemed a little too personal for Ada.

"Yes, sir," the doctor didn't lose a beat as he attended to the wound. "He said it was a knife."

The injured officer spoke up from the ground. "The one pinned me and held me back while the other tried to stab me to death. I kicked at her, and she stabbed me leg instead of me heart. Lucky I got out alive, I am."

"So, you're admitting _two women_ overpowered you and held you down?" Tommy asked, taking another drag on his cigarette.

The other officers all smirked and held back laughs while the man on the ground considered the appropriate response. Tommy didn't have time to wait.

"Why were you lot after my sister?"

"Orders came from higher up the chain of command. From somewhere in London," the officer standing up against the car spoke, his voice hoarse.

"But _why_?"

"Said they were commies, and they were spreading commie propaganda. We were to take em' to London," a third man spoke up, bruises on his face.

"Where'd they go?" John piqued in, making Tommy grit his teeth.

"We were hoping you could tell us," Moss said from behind.

Tommy whipped around, "If I _fookin'_ knew, I wouldn't be here looking, would I?"

With that, the three men took off and stalked back up the street the way they had come.

"You know where they are?" Arthur muttered when they were out of earshot.

"Yeah, I know where they are."

"Where?" John asked.

"Fucking Polly's."


	5. Chapter 5

" _Open the fuck up, Pol!"_ Tommy's muffled voice called from the other side of the door.

Ada turned to Polly, her eyes wide as she whispered, "You can't let him know I'm here. Please!"

For a moment, Polly didn't respond, but then she nodded, walking forward. She had a distinct soft spot for her niece.

"Stay there and keep your trap shut," Polly muttered in the front room. Then, louder, "What do you want, Thomas? I have a male guest over here, and we're quite busy."

Ada grinned ear to ear, and June decided she liked Polly more already. But Tommy was sharper than that. " _Now, c'mon, Pol. We just want to see Ada and figure out what happened."_

 _"Yeah,"_ Arthur growled, his voice a little more muffled as he yelled through the door. _"And get some fookin' answers as to why the coppers are raiding the house."_

Both women met one another's eyes. Now, Polly's heels clacked on the hard floors as she marched back into the kitchen. "You didn't tell me it was cops," she said, folding her arms as she looked between Ada and June.

"We handled it," June piped in, trying to ease Polly, but only seeming to frustrate her.

"Aye, that ya fuckin' did," Tommy said from over Polly's shoulder, making the older woman's hand go to her chest. She rolled her eyes as she wheeled around to face her nephew.

"This isn't your house, Tommy. You can't just go wherever you want to!"

Ada stepped forward, shielding June from view. But June could hear the scowl in her voice as she said, "Get the bloody hell out! The woman isn't decent."

Tommy took a drag on his cigarette, the smoke wafting through the air before he deliberately freed the cig from his mouth, holding it with his pointer and thumb. "No," he said as he punctuated with the cigarette. "I'm not going anywhere until you girls tell _me_ what the fuck's gone on." He pointed at each of them in turn with his cigarette.

"This is my house!" Polly yelled, shoving Tommy in the chest. "Don't you dare come in here and make such demands."

June looked away from the cigarette, and her eyes moved up to meet Tommy Shelby's. They were cold. But there was something else there. Like he was hiding something. He was looking right back at her, making her hair stand on end.

Tommy continued ignoring his aunt, who now stood inches in front of him. He finally broke eye contact with June, allowing her to breathe again, as her bloodied shirt on the floor caught his eye. Without any emotion crossing his face, he turned back up to June. "You're hurt?"

The house filled with so many people and loud as a circus seconds ago fell completely silent.

"She was _shot_ , Tommy," Ada said, her voice petulant. Now, Polly stepped back, her attempted defense of her niece failing. If Ada wanted to explain to Tommy, then that was her choice.

Tommy tilted his head a little, eyebrows raising, "Shot?" The word was quiet, but it left everyone holding their breath.

"One of the cops got me," June reiterated, making those dangerous blue eyes come to rest on her again. Polly leaned against the doorway, her head tilted toward the ceiling and shaking. Arthur, John, and Michael each exchanged a look, in turn.

"A cop?" Tommy said, to which June nodded. "A _copper_ shot his gun off," he again used his cigarette to point between Ada and June, "at you two women?"

Alarmed by his tone, Polly shot forward, "The girl needs medical attention, Thomas."

"Shut up, Pol," he dismissed, turning back to Ada and June. Polly looked as though she might shoot her nephew, but she chose to hold her tongue for the moment.

"It was an accident, Tommy," Ada said, clearly understanding where this was going.

"They arrested you on accident, and then they shot at you on accident?" he asked.

Ada glared defiantly at him as he continued, "Who were they shooting at?"

"The girl needs medical attention Thomas," Polly said, her voice low.

Tommy ignored her, his tone rising, "Who were the _fookin'_ coppers shooting at, Ada?"

Polly matched his tone, shouting, "She needs medical attention!"

This time, Tommy roared, his face turning red as he shoved past Polly into the kitchen, "WHO WERE THOSE DAMNED BASTARDS SHOOTING AT?"

Ada seemed unperturbed by his anger, but June wanted to keep things from getting violent. She had no idea what he was capable of.

"He was shooting at me, clearly," she couldn't help but add.

Polly's hand shot up to her mouth as she looked down at the floor. Tommy turned toward June, Arthur and John both stood straighter. John's hand casually fell on his gun at his side.

"They were shooting at you?" Tommy said, regaining a little composure.

June nodded as Polly jumped forward. "That's why she fucking needs medical attention, Tommy. If you'd just listen…."

He again ignored his aunt, taking a step toward June, both of them at ease despite her being half naked. Tommy was all business, as usual. "Where'd he shoot you?"

June slid over, removing her hand from the rag pressed against the wound on her upper arm. Tommy's eyes hovered over it for a second.

"Close enough to be trying for a kill shot, Tom," Arthur said quietly from the doorway.

"Michael," Tommy said, "Go find a fucking doctor and tell him Tommy Shelby needs him. Arthur, John, go get the bastard that shot one of us."

The boys exited the house without any questions. Tommy stayed behind, but the tension seemed to ease slightly. Except for Ada, she still stood with her arms crossed and her lips set.

Tommy grabbed a rag and began tying it tightly on June's shoulder to help cut off the blood flow. He then took another one and began tying it over the wound, allowing June to relieve herself of holding the rag to it.

"Why'd they shoot you?" he asked as he worked, not meeting her eyes.

Polly stood in the doorway, listening as June replied, "Because I scared him."

The Shelby just nodded as he worked, seeming completely calm and at odds with the man June had just seen seconds before.

"Why was he scared of a woman?"

"I took out his men," June replied, not wavering as he turned to meet her eyes. Did he think she was lying?

"You impaled his leg with that knife of yours?" he guessed.

"You don't seem very surprised," June said as he pulled the temporary bandage tight over her arm.

"Not really," he said. "I figured out you were different that day you almost took out my eye. I just didn't know how different."

Tommy moved to the sink to wash up his hands, taking care to keep the rest of his clothes from getting any blood on them. "Is different good, or bad?" June asked, unsure she wanted to know the answer.

"Different is different," he said as he walked back over and set the bottle of whiskey next to her. "Neither good, nor bad. We all have our skill sets and backgrounds. We all have a use here. Yours might be different than I had first thought."

June looked at the bottle beside her, the sour smell of whiskey burning in her nose. "Drink it," Tommy said as he took a drag on his cigarette. "You'll need to be numbed up when the doctor gets here."

Appreciating his sincerity, June took a swig of the amber liquid, taking down two mouthfuls before she took a break. Her insides lit up as she felt the liquor move down to her stomach. Her nose scrunched up a little at the taste, but she continued to drink casually until the pain in her arm was sufficiently dulled, and the room was teetering back and forth.

Time was hard to grasp when you were drinking, but June wagered she laid there for almost an hour, growing steadily more drunken. Someone had thought to put a rolled up towel under her head and a glass of water by her side. But she hadn't noticed them leave the room. She only noticed them enter once more.

"June…." She blinked several times as she registered her name. The world above her was blurry, but she could make out the shape and dark hair of Tommy. Someone was standing next to him.

"June, can you sit up?" he asked. Tommy asked.

"Yesssss," she said, pushing herself into a sitting position with her legs draped over the side of the table. She breathed out once, a long, loud breath as she teetered to the left and the right.

"This is Doctor Edminston," Tommy continued. "He is here to get you sewed up."

June blinked several times at the shape next to Tommy. He was half a head taller than the Shelby, with a thicker neck and less hair. His glasses were all she could make out of his face. But when he spoke, her drugged mind registered a light bulb of recognition, "Hello, June. It's nice to see you can sit upright."

So calm, so clinical. And, so not a doctor.

June screamed, not realizing what she was doing as she kicked the man hard in his chest and sent him stumbling backward.

She tried to jump up, but stumbled, halting from falling to the floor. Only when she looked did she realized Tommy had firmly wrapped his hands around her arms.

"June, what the _fook_?"

"Tha… ma… MAN. Isn't a f-f-f-ucking _doctor_."


End file.
